Ornaments
by owluvr
Summary: Ornaments:Noun:A thing used to adorn something, but usually having no practical purpose. For the Christmas Boot Camp. A collection of 100 one-shots or drabbles about Christmas for the Next Generation. Some romantic, some platonic, but all with Christmas spirit. iii.Rose has one of Scorpius' silver bells. He'll never know.
1. Advent

Ornaments

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_Ornaments: Noun:__A thing used to adorn something but usually having no practical purpose._

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A/N-For the Christmas Boot Camp. A collection of 100 one-shots or drabbles about Christmas. Some romantic, some platonic, but all of them with a holiday spirit.

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Advent: Noun: The arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.

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Victoire Weasley wasn't usually a patient person. But today, she was even less patient than she was normally. Because Teddy Lupin was coming today. Teddy Lupin, her best friend, was coming home for the Christmas holidays. The thought just made nine year old Victoire smile.

She had insisted that come to King's Cross early, so she had been waiting for nearly two hours, peeping her head around the corner every five seconds, waiting to see the cloud of smoke is the distance, waiting to hear the whistle, _waiting _to see the train.

Although she and Teddy had sent a few letters since his departure in September, that could never compare to actually seeing him in _person. _Victoire missed her best friend so much. It was weird not having him around to play whenever they wanted too.

"Is the train here yet?" she asked her father.

"Didn't you just look around the corner and see that it wasn't?" Bill asked, laughing.

"No," Victoire said, glancing into the distance. Nothing.

"Victoire," he said, "You're just going to have to wait. You can't make the train come faster, and looking isn't going to help. A watched kettle never boils."

"Well, it's got to boil _eventually_," Victoire said lazily, quite used to her father's idioms. He seemed to think that everything that happened to her in life could be used as a _lesson_. Victoire absolutely loathed lessons. Her family also seemed to think that the Muggle way of going to primary school before secondary school (which was Hogwarts to them) was a good idea. So Victoire had to learn sums, after all maths was the same in all worlds (at least that's what Aunt Hermione said. But when Victoire had pointed out that wizards had a different currency then Muggles, Aunt Hermione had simply ignored her and instead told Louis that his problem was wrong) and a bunch of other things that Victoire was pretty sure she would never use in her life.

"Even if it will," Bill said, "Standing in front of it, staring at it isn't going to make it boil any faster than it would if you weren't watching."

"So what you're saying," Victoire said slowly, "Is that we shouldn't be waiting here at King's Cross because we're basically watching a kettle, and it won't boil any faster if we _continue _watching it?"

"Erm, yes," her father consented.

"Well then why are we here?" Victoire asked, "If you're not supposed to watch the kettle, then why are we here, watching it?" her father didn't answer. Victoire sighed. A silence emerged. Victoire stood there awkwardly, her hands in the pocket of her old jeans. They were ripped and torn, but Victoire didn't care. They were scarcely _wearable_, but Victoire needed to wear them, otherwise her mother might decide they need to get rid of them. And Victoire couldn't get rid of them. They contained memories.

Memories that contained happy hours of her and Teddy playing in the garden, or playing Quidditch. Memories that contained her seventh birthday when Teddy had accidentally blew up the cake when he had been trying to light the candles with his "magic". Victoire giggled to herself, not caring that people were staring.

What were they going to do this year? Teddy was going to be at Hogwarts for both his birthday as well as hers. They weren't going to be able to celebrate like they used to. Nothing was going to be like is used to be, Victoire thought bitterly, the sweetness of the memories long gone.

Victoire loathed change; actually, she detested it. Change meant moving on and losing old memories that she loved. Change meant Teddy going to Hogwarts, change meant the leaves changing into a million different colors (which was a lot, if she was right in her maths), change was just plain _awful_.

Change was why Victoire didn't want to get rid of her ripped jeans. Victoire sighed again. Her father looked down at her.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" he asked her, messing up her hair. Victoire smiled.

"Why does everything have to change?" she asked her dad. His smile faded.

"I wish I knew," he said, looking somewhere off into the distance, "I wish I knew…" he trailed off, leaving Victoire to stare at the ever-blank landscape. She sat down. What was the point of all this? Why had she ever even come? Teddy had probably changed in the three months that he had been at Hogwarts. What was another life lesson her father had taught her? Nothing lasts forever. Victoire wished that some things did.

Victoire sat down on a bench nearby, sulking. She didn't even really know why she was sulking. She was sulking over something she had absolutely, positively, no control over. She wished Teddy was here already.

"Why so glum, Vic?" a familiar voice asked her. Victoire perked up. Only one person ever called her Vic, and that was…

"Teddy!" she yelled, "I missed you!" she hugged him. Teddy and Victoire were usually like brother and sister, bickering all the time. They never really showed much signs of affection. Taking the mickey out on each other _was_ really their form of affection. Teddy was startled, needless to say.

"I missed you too," he said, "But do we have to get so bloody personal?"

Victoire released him, a huge smile on her face.

Some things would never change.


	2. Angel

A/N-For the prompt "Angel".

Angel: An attendant spirit, esp. a benevolent one.

Lily Luna Potter had a big responsibility.

As the youngest of all the Weasley-Potters, she was the one that put the angel on top of the tree.

She looked forward to it every year.

Being the youngest Weasley-Potter, she normally was the ignored one, the overlooked one, as the adults basked in the glory of what their older children had done at Hogwarts. Lily couldn't wait until it was her time to go the Hogwarts, her time to shine.

But for now, she had to be content putting the angel on top of the Christmas tree.

"Ready, Lils?" her dad, Harry Potter, yes _the _Harry Potter, asked her.

"Ready," she said, nodding. She grabbed the angel and Harry lifted her up to the top of the tree.

"She's a little angel herself," she heard Fred joke to James and they both cracked up. They were eleven, and of course, being eleven, everything anyone and _everyone _said and did was funny.

"She's been sent from above," James said, "To watch us and make sure we do good."

"It's not gonna work," Fred said, "Just go back where you came from!"

"Will you two shut it?" Dom asked crossly, "Control yourselves, for _Merlin's _sake."

"That's quite enough, all three of you," Aunt Angelina snapped.

"Lily, are you alright?" Ginny said, "You haven't put the angel on the tree yet."

"Fine," she said, and carefully lowered the angel on top of the tree. It was resting there, it looked so peaceful.

"Doesn't that look lovely?" Aunt Angelina simpered.

"Doesn't that look lovely?" Fred mocked behind her back. His mother shot him a glare.

"Fredrick Weasley, you stop that this _instant_," she ordered. Ginny kissed her daughter's head.

"Don't listen to the boys," she whispered, "It's perfect Lily."

Lily smiled.


	3. Bells

Bells: A hollow object, typically made of metal and having the shape of a deep inverted cup widening at the lip, that sounds a clear musical...

_Silver bells, silver bells, soon it will be Christmas day._

Rose never told anyone, but she had one of Scorpius' silver bells.

She hadn't meant to take it, _honest. _

It was December of their third year at Hogwarts. Scorpius' parents sent him small gifts as "teasers" for twenty-five days before Christmas, because when he was younger, Scorpius couldn't wait until Christmas day and _had _to open some presents before.

So, one day during Transfiguration, he had opened a small box and pulled out a little bell.

It was beautiful. Rose was in awe. It was made out of silver, _real _silver and made this jingly sound that reminded Rose of Christmas and everything she loved.

Scorpius had a very different reaction when the bell was taken out of the box.

"_Another _bell? What are Mother and Father thinking? They get me one of these every single year! I get it! It's a bloody silver bell! I'd rather have _anything _else," he complained. Rose looked at him in disgust. He was upset. _Upset _at getting a silver bell. Didn't he _know _that there were some people that didn't know how to read or write, and didn't have food or water? And he was complaining about his "bloody silver bell". Rose would've told him off at that moment, if the teacher had not walked into the room.

Scorpius threw the bell in the air, and it landed right by Rose. All of the boys turned to the teacher, who hadn't noticed a thing. None of them cared at all about the bell.

Rose dropped her quill, and swiped the quill and the bell up at the same time. She pocketed the bell. No one noticed.

Later that night, she played with the bell, fascinated by the beautiful sound it made.

And as she got older, she loved the bell for a very different reason.


	4. Candles

Candles: A cylinder or block of wax or tallow with a central wick that is used to produce light as it burns.

The candle was burning.

It was Christmas Eve, and the last of the candle was diminishing down into a stub. Roxanne was sitting there, watching the tiny little flame dance before her eyes.

It was so unfair.

All of her cousins were moving on with their lives after Hogwarts, growing up, getting jobs, becoming _responsible _adults, and where was she?

She was sitting in front of a fireplace.

She had absolutely _no _idea what she wanted to do with her life. She was in her seventh year, attempting to take _all _the NEWTs, because she didn't know what she was going to do once she graduated Hogwarts.

Her family was worried about her, she could tell. She heard them whispering, and then abruptly stopping when she walked into the room, with too big smiles on their faces.

Even her cousins looked worried, even her _brother _who had never worried about _anything _a day in his life, was worried.

And she couldn't say she blamed them. They were worried that she would have a terrible life because she had absolutely no _idea _what she wanted to do with it. She thinks they were worried that she was going to end up sad, depressed and alone throughout the rest of her life.

She couldn't say she blamed them.

All she really wanted for Christmas was what to know what she wanted to do with her life.

But if she hadn't figured it out in seventeen _years_, she highly doubted the solution would magically appear to her overnight.

Roxanne stood up and blew out the candle. She was going to bed.

Maybe the sugar plums would distract her from her problems.


	5. Candy Cane

Candy Cane:A cylindrical stick of striped, sweet candy with a curved end, resembling a walking stick.

Angelina _hated _peppermint.

It had all started when she was five years old, and her mother had given her a peppermint toad in her stocking for Christmas. But she unbeknownst to her and her mother, her father had put an _actual _toad in her stocking. She when she took it out and took a bite she tasted toad instead.

Her father had a good laugh about that one, but neither Angelina nor her mother had found anything to laugh about.

"You tricked her!" her mother accused, "You made her eat a peppermint! You think that's funny, Harold? Tricking a five year old into eating a toad? Well, it's _not_."

"Calm down," her father said, "It was a joke."

"_Joke_?" her mother screeched, "You're going to scar her for _life_."

As Angelina grew older, she no longer cared about that prank. In fact, she scarcely remembered it. But she still hated peppermint because of that day.

It was the first day she had ever seen or heard her parents fighting.

-X-

When Angelina was a second year, she tried out for the Quidditch Team. Coming for a magical family, Angelina naturally knew all about the sport and how it was played. She was pretty good, especially for a twelve-year old.

At lunch that day, she was incredibly nervous, and Alicia had made her drip peppermint tea.

"Drink this," she shoved it in Angelina's face, "It's for the nerves, it will help you feel better." Angelina nodded, and drank the whole thing in one big gulp.

"Ange," Alicia said exasperated, "Chugging the whole thing all at once won't help you feel calmer. It will just make you more stressed out."

"What type of tea was that?" Angelina asked absentmindedly, not paying attention to what Alicia had said.

"Peppermint," Alicia responded, "Why?"

"Peppermint?" Angelina said, horror-struck, "Alicia, I _hate _peppermint!"

"Oh, uh, sorry?" Alicia offered. Angelina fixed her with a glare, "In my defense, I had absolutely no clue."

"It's alright," Angelina said.

"How could you hate peppermint, anyhow?" she asked curiously.

"_Alicia_," she groaned.

"Sorry," she apologized, "Just curious."

Angelina groaned again and started to walk away.

"Bye Alicia!" she said mockingly.

"Bye Ange!" Alicia called, oblivious, "Good luck at the tryouts!"

At the tryouts, her stomach began to churn from nerves. She could do all the things that the Captain, Charlie Weasley was telling her to do, but for some reason she couldn't muster up the strength to do them at the tryouts.

"Nice try Johnson," Charlie Weasley said after she missed her _fifth _goal in a row.

Her stomach began to churn worse. With a start, she realised that she was going to throw up. She flew down and started running.

"Johnson! Where are you going?" Charlie Weasley asked her.

"Bathroom," she could barely make out and keep running.

"Not until tryouts are over Johnson! Wait Johnson! Johnson!" but it was no use. Angelina was already in the bathroom, puking up all the peppermint tea.

I'm going to kill Alicia, she thought.

-X-

Throughout the rest of her Hogwarts experience, Angelina tried as best as she could to avoid peppermint. It only brought up a whole host of unhappy memories.

The summer before her sixth year, her mother and father had a _huge _fight. Over _her_. Angelina never told anyone about it, but that stupid peppermint prank that her father had played on her was brought up. Apparently it showed that he was "stupid and childish" and needed to "grow up".

That night, Angelina cried.

She wasn't surprised when the next day; her parents called her down and told her that they were getting divorced. It just made her sadder.

Angelina dreamed of a world without peppermint.

-X-

"C'mon Ange!" Alicia begged.

"No," she muttered.

"But why _not_?" she pouted.

"Because," Angelina replied.

"Because? Because? That's the best reason you could've come up with," Alicia asked, disgusted.

"Yes," Angelina replied proudly. Alicia shook her head.

"I will never understand it," Alicia muttered.

"Understand what?" Katie asked, taking a seat next to them. The three girls were sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Angelina's apathy to candy canes," Alicia burst out before Angelina could stop her.

"I do _not _have apathyof _candy canes_," Angelina protested stubbornly, "It's a _loathing _of _peppermint_."

"Whatever," Alicia said, "Potato, potato."

"Actually, it's candy cane, peppermint," Katie said, laughing. Alicia groaned.

"Not you too!" she said, "Don't tell me your on _her _side."

"Come join my side Katie," Angelina grinned, "We have cookies."

"No, Katie's on my side," Alicia said, "Katie join my side. We have peppermint."

"I'm neutral guys," she said, "So Angelina, why _do _you loathe peppermint anyway?"

"Never mind," she said, "It's not important."

"Oi!" All three girls looked up. Fred Weasley was standing over them, "Angelina, will you go to the ball with me?" Angelina nodded.

"Sure," she said, "I'd love to."

"Great!" he exclaimed, "See you then!"

And suddenly, all discussions of peppermint were forgotten.

-X-

The Yule Ball, was in Angelina's opinion, the perfect night. She and Fred had fun, dancing and cracking jokes about all the other people at the dance.

Throughout the night, Angelina realised something. She had fallen in love with Fred.

And sometimes, that was even scarier to her than the looming darkness that was coming.

-X-

When Fred died, Angelina cried. She didn't know what she'd do without him. She really loved him.

And now he was gone.

She missed everything about him, his jokes, his laughter, _him_.

And somehow, she started dating George, but she felt like she was dating Fred too.

She felt like she was settling for second best.

Because George, however much they looked alike, and however much they acted alike, and however much they were alike, was _not _Fred. George was George. And she felt horrible.

But she needed this, she needed to pretend he was Fred. And so she did, for a little while.

-X-

"Angelina," George whispered one day as she was leaving the Ministry.

"George! What are you going here?" she asked, confused.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

No other words were necessary.

-X-

"I need you to stop thinking I'm Fred," he told her.

Angelina had known this was coming for a long time. She had known that this was going to happen.

"I'm so sorry George," she choked, "I love you, but I love Fred too, and…"

"It's alright," he said, "But you got to remember, that I'm not Fred. I may look like him, and I may act like him, but I'm not him."

"I know," she whispered, "I know."

-X-

The truth was, Fred was gone. And the truth was, George was here.

And the real truth was, Angelina didn't know what she'd do _if _Fred was alive, because she really did love both of them.

And the truth was, as many _bad _memories as peppermint evoked, it also evoked so many good ones.

So the truth was, Angelina didn't really mind peppermint.h_hrtherh_


	6. Cards

Cards: A greeting card sent at Christmas to express goodwill.

For: Weekly Shipping Contest (Ron/Hermione) and The Anything Goes: Holiday Challenge also with Ron/Hermione.

"Mummy! Mummy! I made you a Christmas card!" A seven year old Rose Weasley yells, handing her mother a card.

"Rose, it's not Christmas for a while. You don't have to make me a card yet," Hermione said proudly, "Plus, do you even want me to see it?"

"No!" Rose yells, taking it back, "You're not supposed to _see _it yet."

"Well, lucky for you I didn't see it," Hermione laughs.

"Okay," Rose runs out of the room, nearly running into her father, "Sorry Daddy!" she yells.

"It's alright," he says, "Hey Hermione!"

"Rose already made her Christmas cards for this year," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"She did?" Ron asked, "Hermione, we have to get Christmas cards!" Hermione pointed to the stack of cards sitting on her desk.

"They're already done," she said.

"You and Rose are just alike," Ron said, shaking his head. Hermione smiled.

"You shouldn't be too surprised," she says, "She is my daughter, after all."

"Definitely _your _daughter," Ron says.

"Well, you do have a tendency to procrastinate," Hermione laughed.

"Hey!" Ron yells.

"It's alright," Hermione says, laughing, "I still love you anyway."

"And I love you too," Ron said, leaning in.

"Ew! Gross! Mummy and Daddy are kissing!" Rose yells, shielding her eyes. Hermione smiles.

"You want to put the kids to bed, or should I?" she sighed.

"You can," Ron says. Hermione sighs.

"It's a good thing I still love you anyway," Hermione says.


End file.
